


Unsaid, Jay

by BuckyAndDanno



Series: Evan Buckley/Jay Halstead Fics [5]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV), Chicago Fire, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Buck Regrets A Lot, Hope and Happiness, Inspired by Julie and the Phantoms, Inspired by Unsaid Emily, M/M, MCD in Ch2, MCD will be resolved in Ch3, Second Chances, Sort of like It's A Wonderful Life, ghost!buck, temporary major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27246079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyAndDanno/pseuds/BuckyAndDanno
Summary: Post-Firetruck Bombing. Ghost!Evan visits Jay Halstead, then gets a second chance.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Kelly Severide, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Jay Halstead
Series: Evan Buckley/Jay Halstead Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929322
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. I just had this quick idea last night that I couldn’t get out of my mind. Blame my love of Julie and the Phantoms.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1, Chicago PD, Chicago Fire, or Unsaid, Emily from Julie and the Phantoms for which the title is taken and some italicised lyrics are used.

He sees himself lying there, eyes closed beneath a blood stained face. He sees the firetruck crushing his leg completely, mere feet away from the deranged kid who started it all. He sees distinctly the complete stillness of his own chest, and a sickly shudder runs through him.

He’s dead.

That much is obvious.

A blink, and then he’s behind the other truck, watching as Eddie struggles against Hen and Chim’s grasp to run to his side; watching the streaks of tears down his best friend’s face as the other man cries out.

“He’s not breathing, damn it!”

He watches, helpless, as Bobby manages to subdue the kid, as they race to his prone body’s side.

He watches as Hen yells that she can’t find a pulse, as they try and bring him back, as they realise – all too quickly – the gravity of the situation before them.

As they realise he’s not coming back.

Evan Buckley finds a sob building in his own chest as he watches them crumble; watches Eddie swear and hit the truck with his fist, Bobby break down and sink to his knees, Hen and Chim silent and grieving.

_First things first,_

_We start the scene in reverse,_

_All of the lines rehearsed,_

_Disappeared from my mind._

In a flash, like literal bright white light that sears his eyes, he’s not on the LA street any longer.

It takes him a long moment to actually understand where he’s been unwittingly brought to, and then a gasp escapes him, eyes landing on two distinct figures; familiar like his own heartbeat, even in the dark of a Chicago night.

Himself, pupils blown and stumbling, blood dripping from the side of his head.

Jay Halstead, the love of his life, face torn between despair and anger as he takes Evan’s arms and turns him around, cuffing his wrists together.

“Evan Severide, you are under arrest for public intoxication.” Jay’s voice breaks with every word, and it sends sharp pains through Evan’s body as clearly as if he were alive.

He gasps, stumbles, reaches closer. “Jay…” Tears track down his face, the unsaid apology springing from his lips before he realises the other man can’t hear him.

He watches himself be put in the back of the car, watches Jay turn away and crumble. Then Voight appears, heated words exchanged before the elder man reaches into the car and pulls him back out. Sickness rolls through him as he watches himself laugh and grin, watches the disappointment flicker over Voight’s face before he’s backhanded. Watches himself be shocked out of his stupor.

Watches himself crumble too.

_When things got loud,_

_One of us running out,_

_I should have turned around,_

_But I had too much pride._

Another flash, and they’re in the apartment. Evan’s heart aches at every detail sorely missed and forcefully forgotten. Even the fluffy ginger cat with a permanent scowl, laid on the back of the couch like he owns the place, draws a ragged sob from his throat.

It’s too much all at once, especially when Evan himself emerges from the bedroom, red rimmed, bloodshot eyes haunted and broken, throwing things into a bag like he has no time at all.

“Evan!” Jay chases out after him, his own expression bleak and hurt. “Evan!” He grabs his arm, whirling him around, but his younger self merely pulls away, shaking his head.

“Jay… I can’t…”

“We’ll get through this. I promise.” Jay whispers. “Just let me help.”

“Y-You c-can’t…” Evan sobs, pressing his palms into his eyes, shaking wildly. “I… I broke us, Jay… I can’t… We can’t…” He jerks, zipping the bag closed. “I…”

Then he’s at the door, Jay stood frozen and helpless.

“I have to go.”

Evan can only watch as the man who held his heart – who still does – is left hurt and alone.

_No time for goodbyes,_

_Didn’t get to apologise,_

_Pieces of a clock that lies broken._

The scene flips, bright sunshine streaming into the apartment, lighting up colours like they’re stood inside a rainbow.

His much younger self is now stood in the kitchen cooking breakfast, bright eyed and happy. Jay is behind him, arms having slipped around his waist and pink lips pressing soft kisses to his shoulder and neck.

“You’re gonna make me burn myself.” Evan laughs as he tries to plate up the food.

Jay chuckles, and reluctantly lets go. “I mean, it’s not like we don’t know many first responders.”

“True.” Evan hands him a plate. “But I’d still rather not face Shay’s wrath.”

“Too true.” Jay raises a fork in agreement. “Also, who taught you to cook so well?”

“Your brother.” Evan deadpans, earning a playful glare from his boyfriend and a swat with the dish towel.

“You know if you weren’t so pretty…”

“What?” Evan grins. “You’d arrest me?”

Moments later, the breakfast lies forgotten.

_If I could take us back,_

_If I could just do that,_

_And write in every empty space,_

_The words I love you in replace,_

_And every time would not erase me._

Another flash brings him to the now, except he’s surrounded by the sterile white of a hospital. His lifeless body is lain on a metal table, sheet up to his neck. Beside him, two figures grasp his hands for dear life, sobs wracking both their bodies.

“Kelly… Jay…”

Evan sinks to his knees, unable to contain his own emotions any longer.

“I’m so sorry. God, I’m so, so sorry…” He reaches out to them, sobs tearing louder from his throat when his hands simply pass through them. “I shouldn’t have left… I… I shouldn’t have… God dammit, why can’t you hear me!”

They don’t respond. They simply sit there, pale and crying and desperate and broken, and Evan’s heart crumbles and fades with every passing moment.

There’s a brush of wind on his cheek then as his scream fades into nothing, a whisper in his ear that says;

**‘Words left unspoken and unsaid, regretted, are often words that deserve freedom.’**

He whirls, opens his mouth, and then another flash consumes him.

_If you could only know,_

_I never let you go,_

_And the words I most regret,_

_Are the ones I never meant to leave,_

_Unsaid Emily._

Heavy eyelids crack open, blurred vision slowly adjusting to the brightness of the room.

“Look who’s back.”

Eddie.

Buck’s eyes snap open, jerking against the bed and the strange sensations encompassing his leg.

“Hey, hey.” Gentle hands push him back down, soothing and soft. “You’re okay, Buck. You’re okay.”

Buck blinks, staring at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

Or like he’s been one.

“I…”

His confusion must be etched onto his face because Eddie squeezes his hand softly and says. “Kid blew up a fire truck. You got caught.”

Another blink, the memories rushing back to him, clearing the fog of his mind. “My…” He swallows, shards of glass lining his throat. “My leg…” It’s less a question and more a statement. In any other time, he might have cared more – been completely distraught – but now his mind is too busy trying to sort through the muddle of memory and dream.

“Doc says you’ll walk again.” Eddie replies, giving his hand another squeeze. “Work…”

Buck shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

It must shock Eddie, because he feels the other man jerk. He brings his gaze up, meeting Eddie’s confused expression. “I don’t care.”

“Buck…”

“Can you… Can you call someone, for me?”

Eddie blinks. “Yeah, sure…”

“Jay. Jay Halstead.”

Second chances don’t come often, but Evan Buckley knows not to squander his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, ya’ll wanted more and I never actually used all the lyrics and I’m feeling super angsty so… yeah… enjoy?
> 
> Trigger warning for depression, grief, swearing and major character death. I haven’t tagged MCD in the warnings because it’s gonna get resolved in Ch3 but… read with care.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1, Chicago Fire, Chicago PD, or Unsaid, Emily from Julie and the Phantoms for which the title is taken and italicised lyrics are used.

_Silent days, mysteries and mistakes_

_Who'd be the first to break?_

_Guess we're alike that way_

He doesn’t pick up.

Evan isn’t sure that he would blame Jay at all for dodging his calls but at the same time, part of him worries. The last he’d heard from Kelly was that Jay had become part of the CPD Intelligence unit, and as much as Evan loved his Uncle Hank, the man was known for his own penchant for danger (more so than even Evan’s).

The fact that his calls to CPD brought no joy either, that even Kelly couldn’t get in touch with Jay, made him worry all the more.

He knew the 118 was worried about him. Before his ‘wake up call’ he’d have been the first one running out and getting himself back to fighting fit and recertified, back to where he belongs.

The problem is that now, the only place he knows he belongs is with Jay.

So he sits and stews and waits and watches his phone like the call he needs will come through any time now. Like he isn’t waiting for a miracle.

He hears Eddie’s presence enter the apartment before he sees him, a low sigh escaping him. “’m fine Eds.”

“Like hell you are.” Eddie replies, dumping a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and setting about making lunch. “And I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I let you waste away because this dude is being a complete idiot.”

“You don’t even know what happened.” Evan whispers, feeling the need to defend Jay, even from Eddie.

“Don’t need to.” Eddie replies. “You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met Buck. There’s a reason we call you a Golden Retriever, you know?”

At this, Evan cracks a small smile. “Yeah, I know.”

“So bounce back.” Eddie replies, coming over to his side. “Be Evan Buckley and screw everyone else.”

This manages to draw an actual laugh from him, smiling up at his friend. “That what I should do, huh?”

“Yeah. Smash those recertification records and get back to being a hero, man.”

“Yeah…” The smile drops at the word ‘hero’ – something he’d only ever used in relation to the man who’d saved him from a hostage situation and whose winning smile had brightened his life from then on. “Maybe.”

Perhaps it’s the sad, pitying smile that Eddie gives him then – or maybe the words do stick in his head after all – but he finds himself leaving the apartment for the first time since he got his cast off. He’s nowhere near as fit as he had been, but it’s not like he’d been sat eating nothing but pop tarts and Cheetos either, so he manages a short run around the local park.

And he has to admit, as he gets back through the door, he does feel somewhat better. The stiffness has eased from his muscles and the constant ache in his leg has gone. A small, satisfied smile even graces his lips as he sets about heating up some of the leftovers from earlier.

He’d been given a second chance, yes, and he’d wanted to make amends with Jay, even if they never went back to how they’d been. But if the man wasn’t picking up, if he couldn’t pick up, then what could Evan do?

He’d said he wasn’t going to squander his second chance and that hadn’t changed.

Regardless of Jay Halstead, he wasn’t going to waste it.

He sits and eats the zucchini pasta whilst on the phone to Bobby and the Chief. He sets about organising his required psych eval, and use of the LAFD training facility. He tells them he’s determined to get back to the 118.

Bobby promises his place will be there for him when he’s ready.

So he feels somewhat lighter when he heads to bed around 11pm, settling into the warmth and comfort. Soon enough his eyes drift closed.

_He said, she said_

_Conversations in my head_

_And that's just where they're gonna stay forever_

It comes at around 3am, a sharp pain in his chest that he just can’t shake. Unsteady legs hoist him from the mattress, arm reaching out for anything he can hold onto.

If he can just make it to the kitchen, he can grab his heat warmer and he’ll be fine. Probably just a muscle cramp, he tells himself, but then he starts coughing, like there’s something in his throat, his chest, his entire body that he needs to shift. Something warm and wet speckles his lips, chin, his hand as he draws it back.

Red. Crimson. Metallic and dripping. Staining the carpet.

His eyes widen, panic racing through him as his legs give way.

Hitting the bed, grasping, reaching for his phone. The thump as it hits the carpet, slick fingers desperately reaching for the buttons.

Then nothing.

_If I could take us back, if I could just do that_

_And write in every empty space the words I love you in replace_

_Then maybe time would not erase me_

The shouts of “CPD! Hands in the air!” are nothing less than music and melody to the ears of Detective Jay Halstead. He continues playing his part for the next few moments, gun dropping to the floor, hands in the air. He lets himself get arrested, waits for the _rest of the gang_ to be taken out.

Then, his cover clear, he feels the cool metal around his wrists be released, stretches and pops them, and smiles.

“Took you all long enough.”

Erin’s watery smile as she hugs him is almost enough to set him off too, but working deep cover for the past year has, if anything, had him constantly in check with his emotions. So he hugs her tight, whispers “I missed you,” and then shakes hands with Voight, who tells him it was a job well done.

There’s nothing like the pride that radiates through him.

This specific gang had been wanted for so many crimes, but with too little evidence to link to them, they’d gotten away more often than not. Jay’s whole purpose the past year had been to infiltrate their ranks and gain the information and evidence needed to put them away for good.

That morning, he’d made the secure call to say the final deal was going down.

This evening, the job was done.

Voight takes his arm then, gruff smile replaced with something more vulnerable and broken, and the sight shocks Jay to his core. He knows he and Voight had become close, some sort of paternal relationship there, especially after Justin, but he hadn’t thought it was to the extent where the man was worried about him. Yes, it had been a close call but…

“We need to debrief.” Voight says softly, but Jay can’t quite handle the range of emotions flitting over his boss’ face, so he cracks a grin and says;

“Can I take a shower first and get rid of the drug dealer beard?”

There’s a shadow that passes over Voight’s eyes, a sadness Jay doesn’t quite understand, but he nods nevertheless. “You got two hours.”

_If you could only know I'd never let you go_

_And the words I most regret_

_are the ones I never meant to leave_

_Unsaid Emily_

The apartment is exactly how he left it all those months ago, and he sinks into the warmth of both his shower and his couch with great joy. Mr Tibbles rubs against him briefly, the cat having been looked after by Burgess, and he can’t help but chuckle.

“Is that all I get after nearly a year?”

The cat doesn’t answer, merely scratching at the couch and then racing off into the bedroom.

Settled back on the couch with a microwave pizza and an hour before he needs to get to PD, he digs his old phone out from the side table and puts it onto charge.

Immediately the screen lights up with over two dozen missed calls.

Jay’s heart skips a beat as he reads the names that show up over the lock screen.

_Evan_

_Evan_

_Kelly_

_Evan_

_Kelly_

_Kelly_

_Kelly_

Scrambling for the phone, laying at an awkward angle with the charger still plugged in, he hesitantly listens to the few messages left.

_“Hey, uh… it’s me…”_ The sound of Evan’s voice does more to break him than Erin’s did. _“I… God, I’ve been thinking about this call for hours and now I… I don’t even know what to say, except… I miss you.”_

_“Hey, so… I’m sorry. For everything. I fucked everything up and I just… I need you to know I’m sorry. I need you to know… I still love you.”_

_“I always will, Jay, even if… even if you don’t want to talk to me. That’s… That’s okay. Okay?”_

_“Hey, it’s Kelly. Evan’s trying to call you man and… look, I know things were bad between you two but… don’t ghost him?”_

_“I love you. I love you and I’m sorry and I… Can we just talk?”_

_“Jay… Fuck, man… Evan…”_

_“Call me back, Jay… Please… Just… Fuck.”_

_“Jay…”_ Kelly’s voice is barely a whisper then, and Jay can feel himself shaking as he presses the phone even closer to his ear. _“He… Evan…”_ Choked sobs send his heart plummeting down into the turbulent seas of his stomach. He feels sick. _“He’s gone…”_

Everything freezes. For a long moment those two words repeat in Jay’s mind and he can scarcely understand their meaning.

_He’s gone._

_He’s gone._

_He’s gone._

What did that…? Surely…?

No.

He shakes his head, every inch of him trembling, tears cascading down his face because it just can’t be true… It can’t…

He unlocks his phone, blinking at the time stamps on the last call, the last message.

_10 months ago._

He re-familiarises himself with the toilet and the cool tiles of his bathroom floor before he can let trembling digits scroll through his contacts, bile still coating his throat as the dial tone plays like a taunt in his ears.

“Jay…” The breathy response tells him everything he needs to know before he can even put words to his thoughts and yet… he still can’t believe it…

“When?” He croaks, barely a whisper.

There’s a stagnant pause, then Kelly’s voice, stronger than on the messages but still carrying echoes of grief, says “Where the hell have you been?”

“Kel… If I’d have…” He shakes his head, hand scratching through his hair, the pain somewhat grounding. “It was deep cover, I… what happened?”

“Accident.” Kelly replies breathlessly. “Thought he was okay but… blood clots… an embolism…”

Jay swears, fist hitting the tiles without a second thought. He doesn’t even pay attention to the throb or the blood that wells up between split knuckles.

“You couldn’t have known.” Kelly tells him, but Jay knows better. He knows better because he knows he shouldn’t have let Evan run off to LA in the first place.

He knows because he never should have let him go.

Everything goes fuzzy after that. The call ends at some point, and the phone is left on the floor of the bathroom. He somehow stumbles his way into the bedroom, to the chest of draws that has remained untouched for over three years and the box that lays atop of it.

Trembling hands lift the lid of the box, pulling out the sterling silver band nestled within. He presses it to his cheek, to his lips, tears falling on the surface like blemishes.

“I love you too.” He croaks, eyes screwed shut in grief and pain and anguish as it consumes him wholly.

Then a bright flash encompasses the whole room, blinding Jay even behind closed lids.

When he opens his eyes the sight standing before him has him crying mindlessly with disbelief. “Evan…”

Before him, Evan Buckley-Severide looks nothing short of confused and dazed, but then his gaze comes to rest on Jay, and a blinding smile almost breaks his face. “Jay…”

“You’re…” He goes to say _here_ but as he steps forward, as his hand passes through Evan with nothing more than a shudder of glimmering light, the word dies on his tongue.

“Dead.” Evan finishes instead with a sigh. “Yeah… Kind of got that when I was floating over my own body.” He’s still smiling at Jay though, a sight the other man has missed for far too long. “Sucks, right? But… at least I get to see you again before I move on. Maybe heaven heard my prayer.”

“Maybe…” He croaks, because he doesn’t understand it but does that really matter right at that moment.

“I tried calling you.”

“I know.” His gaze unintentionally drifts back to the bathroom, pain lancing through his heart at the thought of the messages left and unknown. “I was… I was working deep cover…”

“Least you’re okay.” Evan says, hand ghosting Jay’s cheek. “I thought you were angry at me.”

“Never.” Jay swallows, wishing with everything that he could feel the touch. “Evan, I forgave you before you even walked out that door.” At that, Evan sobs, breathy and dry but broken at the same time. “When I saw those messages, when I… when I realised how long it had been…”

Evan jerks. “What… What do you mean?”

It’s not like Jay’s had any experience with ghosts before, but he’d subconsciously assumed Evan had come to visit him, not that he’d… popped out of nowhere or something.

“Jay…” Evan’s eyes are wide now.

“About ten months.” He whispers, reaching out for Evan, sadness rolling through him when the other man recoils. “Kelly said – “

“Is he okay?” Evan asks, tears pricking at his eyes. He’s not sure if he can actually cry, but he damn well feels like it.

In a flash, he’s gone.

_If I could take us back, if I could just do that_

_And write in every empty space the words I love you in replace_

_Then maybe time would not erase me_

He finds his brother all too easily, but the sight that greets him breaks whatever is left of his ghostly heart into pieces.

Sagged against the passenger seat of the Squad 3 truck, Kelly Severide looks dwarfed by his turnout gear. It’s clear he’s lost weight, while soot marrs his face, phone clenched in one hand.

“Oh, Kelly…” Evan whispers, but he’s frozen in place, too afraid to reach out, as if even his ghostly touch would break his brother completely.

It’s Casey who finds him.

“Kel?”

Slowly, the elder Severide blinks back into awareness, red rimmed eyes boring into Casey. “Jay called.”

“Oh…” Casey replies. “Oh, shit…”

“Yeah…” They stare at each other for a long moment before Kelly breaks down, sobs wracking his thin frame. “I… I thought I was okay, but… damn, I miss him… I miss him so much, Matty.”

“I know.” Casey climbs into the cab beside him, holding Kelly close. “I know.”

“I should have been there for him. I should have…”

Evan can’t listen to any more.

He’s not sure if he’s expecting the 118 to fare any better, but when the first sight he sees is Bobby and Athena’s house decorated with a banner reading _Baby Boy_ , he lets himself hope, just a little.

He finds the two in the kitchen, Athena holding a small bundle in her arms, and his heart bursts with happiness for them. But then Bobby turns from the fridge, eyes red rimmed and haunted, and everything in him just cracks and breaks all over again.

“Your son needs his Daddy.” Athena whispers, and Evan can see the tears pooling in her own eyes.

“I…” Bobby is shaking where he stands. “What if I fail him? What if I fail him like I failed Evan?”

It’s only the second time that Bobby has called him by his first name (the first being mistaken when he joined) and it shocks Evan to the core; a chill filling him as he looks down at the tiny baby.

“You didn’t fail me…” He whispers, hand reaching out to the curls on the baby’s head. Somehow, the little boy opens his eyes, and stares right at Buck as Athena says;

“We named him Buckley so that Buck would live on.” She says softly, moving over and deliberately placing the baby in his arms. “And you didn’t fail him. You won’t fail him.”

Bobby just cries.

The living room holds no better. The rest of the 118 are clearly forcing smiles that yes are happy in one sense, but still hold grief and sadness in another.

Eddie is a sight for sore eyes, even if in Evan’s mind he only saw him that morning, but it’s the way that his best friend’s far away eyes are focused on a silent, alone Christopher, that does him in completely.

“His therapist is worried.” Eddie whispers to Hen. “And I… I feel like I’m failing him. I can’t… can’t do anything…”

“It’s understandable that he misses Buck.” Hen replies sadly. “We all do.”

“But he’s…” Eddie’s hands curl, trembling. “I can’t bring him back. I can’t do anything.” He repeats, a sob escaping him before he quickly smothers it with the back of his hand.

Evan can only watch as the clearly broken family admit they can’t be fixed, and he wishes with everything in him that he could just turn back time.

He remembers the voice that echoed in his mind after the truck, remembers the notion of a second chance, but how could it have been, when it was ripped cruelly away from him not weeks later?

“What is the point of this?” He asks, anger rising. “What is the point of me being here if I can’t do anything about it?! Why show me this and not let me change anything?!”

When nothing and no-one replies, he lets his frustrations and own grief build into one long scream. “WHY?!”

The room is silent, scream echoing only in his own ears.

Then Bobby and Athena appear, baby held in Bobby’s arms, and introduce him to the 118.

“We called him Buckley.”

The quiet sobs that filter through the room are matched with sombre smiles, except for one.

Christopher Diaz looks up, blinks, then slowly makes his way over to Bobby. His gaze meets that of the baby’s and slowly, like a plant reaching for the sun, a smile forms on his lips.

“You can be Baby Buck.”

_If you could only know I'd never let you go_

_And the words I most regret_

_are the ones I never meant to leave_

Jay isn’t sure how long he sits there for, waiting for Evan to return, but his heart soars when a flash once again illuminates the room, leaving the love of his life standing before him.

Evan looks broken, and Jay wants nothing more than to reach out and hug him, more so when the other man croaks. “I want to go back… I want… I want to fix it all.”

“I know…” Jay whispers, reaching out for him. Somehow, this time, his hand touches something solid, fingers curling around Evan’s wrist.

The two stare at the connection for a long moment before Evan all but falls into Jay’s embrace. He isn’t sure whether ghosts sleep, but somehow, they both rest soundly.

_Unsaid Emily_


End file.
